


patience

by likebrightness



Category: The Morning Show (TV 2019)
Genre: Bottom Alex, Established Relationship, F/F, Light Dom/sub, Name-Calling, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Restraints, Smut, obviously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:01:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27165589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likebrightness/pseuds/likebrightness
Summary: The first time they fuck, Alex is in charge.Alex doesn’t really know how they got from there to here.
Relationships: Bradley Jackson/Alex Levy
Comments: 4
Kudos: 45





	patience

**Author's Note:**

> This is Fever_of_Stingrays's fault. The third chapter of her [First Kiss, Ten Ways fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26345323/chapters/65796526#workskin) inspired the start of this one.

The first time they fuck, Alex is in charge. 

It’s at the studio, after Alex’s stunt at the Leadership in Whatever the Fuck party. Bradley is the one to start it, to smirk and back Alex up into her dressing room counter, but Alex is the one to shove Bradley to her knees. 

Alex just had to wear a jumpsuit tonight. It doesn’t matter that she looks hot, that she knows she looks hot—because it’s a fact, but also because of the way Bradley has been looking at her—she still wishes she wore a dress so she wouldn’t have to be stark fucking naked for this. She manages to get the jumpsuit off with some level of dignity, Bradley waiting patiently on the floor at her feet. Alex feels heady with power. 

When she and Jason were still sleeping together, he always went down on her. But he did it like he was being kind, like he’d learned in a textbook that women needed clitoral stimulation to orgasm. He didn’t do it like Bradley. 

Bradley does it like Alex’s cunt is the best thing she’s ever tasted. Bradley does it like it’s for her, not just for Alex. Bradley does it with a wicked tongue and more than a little moaning.

Alex comes twice, the second time with Bradley’s fingers curling inside of her while Alex presses the back of her own hand against her mouth to smother any sounds she might make.

After, Bradley looks so pleased with herself Alex refuses to return the favor. She slips back into her jumpsuit instead. 

“Get the zipper,” she says over her shoulder. Says, not asks. 

She could do it herself, but she likes Bradley doing as she’s told. 

*

Alex doesn’t really know how they got from there to here. Or—she does, probably. She could trace it—their two steps forward, one step back way of gaining each other’s trust—if she really wanted to.

But she’s a little too preoccupied for reminiscing. 

She’s spread eagle on her king sized bed, wrists and ankles secured via restraints she and Bradley set up yesterday. That’s right: _yesterday_ —Alex has been buzzing with anticipation for almost 24 hours now, and restrained for half of one while Bradley has run her hands over every part of Alex’s body except where Alex most wants her to touch. She’s come painfully close to Alex’s nipples but nowhere near what feels like a furnace between her thighs. 

Alex knows, she _knows_ Bradley is going to make her wait even longer, but she can’t help but lift her hips as the other woman traces patterns lazily onto the skin of Alex’s stomach. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” Bradley scolds. “Patience.” 

Alex has been _so_ patient. Since she met Bradley, the limits of her patience have been stretched until they seem boundless—both when Bradley narrows her eyes and goes digging for some story about providing minors with alcohol when they’re supposed to be doing a New Year’s Eve show, and now, when Bradley makes her wait, and wait, and _wait_ before she ever really touches her. Because Bradley’s fingertips on her skin are nice, but they’re not what Alex wants and Bradley knows it. She knows it just as well as Alex knows Bradley won’t let her come without begging.

It’s annoying as fuck, even if it does make her wet up and down her thighs. 

“Bradley,” Alex grits out. 

Bradley’s fingers still. “Yes, Alex?” 

The sooner Alex asks, the sooner Bradley will _really_ touch her. Alex tests her restraints instead. 

The first time Bradley tied Alex up, she used a silk scarf. Alex felt clever getting one wrist out of it—then Bradley went down on her for _an hour_ without letting her come. Alex tests her restraints anyway. She can’t really even bend her elbows, much less make any kind of escape. She is at Bradley’s mercy. 

The feeling is intoxicating. 

Bradley can do whatever she wants to Alex, and Alex can’t do a thing about it. With anyone else, Alex would fight until her knuckles were bloody. But Bradley...she trusts. 

Whatever. Now is not the time to get sappy. 

“C’mon, Bradley.” 

Bradley presses down lightly—too lightly—on Alex’s hipbones. Alex arches her back just to feel a little more pressure. Bradley pulls away instead. God, this woman is _infuriating._

“You know you can have whatever you want, Levy,” Bradley says in that low, dangerous tone that makes Alex want to growl. “All you have to do is ask.” 

“Bradley, if you don’t touch me, I swear to God I’ll—” 

“Threats really aren’t going to accomplish anything.” Bradley smirks. She holds her hands out, palms up. “What are you gonna do?” 

She flips her hands over, scratches her nails over Alex’s stomach. A shiver goes through Alex’s entire body. 

Alex closes her eyes. It’s easier to do this when her eyes are closed. 

“Please touch me.” She doesn’t unclench her teeth to say it. 

Bradley scratches down the front of Alex’s legs, avoiding the ticklish spot on the inside of her knee. 

“I am touching you.” 

Alex’s eyes are still closed. She hopes Bradley can still tell she rolls them. She _despises_ this. 

“My clit,” she clarifies. “Please put your fingers on my clit.” 

Just like that, Alex can’t remember a single reason she’s frustrated with Bradley, because Bradley swipes two fingers through Alex’s wetness and rubs tight circles over her clit. Alex moans. She can’t decide if she wants to splay her legs wider or pull her thighs in and hold Bradley’s hand right there—not that it matters: she can’t do either, the cuffs tight around her ankles. 

“See how easy it is when you follow the rules?” 

Alex doesn’t quite register the question. Nothing matters but Bradley’s fingers, which have switched from circles to flicking back and forth. Alex is so wet it’s not enough friction to do anything but make her feel _pleased_. Relaxed for the first time since she and Bradley set up the restraint system on their bed yesterday. Her head lolls against her pillow. She smiles at Bradley, who is now propped up by one hand, fingers on the other like the energizer bunny, like she could do this all night. Alex lets her, for a while, happy to lie there and enjoy it, but eventually the thought of _more_ becomes too much. 

Her hips roll—delicately, trying for just a little extra, and Bradley pulls away. 

Alex can’t stop the whine from the bottom of her throat. Sometimes she wonders where her dignity went. 

“Did you need something?” Bradley asks, her eyebrows drawn in faux concern. 

All of that laziness contentedness coils into something harder in Alex’s veins. 

“Bradley,” she draws her name out just to see those blue eyes darken. “Don’t stop.”

Bradley doesn’t move. All Alex has to do is say _please_ , and Bradley’s fingers would be on her again. Alex arches her hips instead. Bradley shoves them back into the mattress and holds them down. It’s everything Alex can do not to moan. 

“How many times do we have to do this before you learn to behave?” 

Alex puts on a pout that does exactly what she wants it to, drawing Bradley’s eyes to her mouth. In her distraction, Bradley lets up the pressure on Alex’s hips. Alex lifts them again just to annoy her. 

“Goddammit, Levy.” She says it like it’s all one word. _Goddammitlevy._

Instead of pressing down harder, she does one better: climbs right the fuck on top of Alex. Straddles her. She’s wet, too—Alex can feel it even through the underwear Bradley still has on. Alex’s heart feels like it’s on fire, flames licking out from her ribcage. 

“I know you’re a stubborn little brat, but I’m the one in control here.” 

Alex licks her lips and Bradley looks at her mouth. It wasn’t intentional this time—she couldn’t help it, the thought of how much power Bradley holds over her in the moment making her mouth go dry. Bradley doesn’t weigh much, but she feels heavy on top of her. Alex strains to press as much of herself into Bradley as possible. She wants to kiss her, wants to fuck her, wants to get fucked, wants to be a brat, wants to do whatever Bradley tells her to. 

“Look, Levy,” Bradley says, voice all low and country. She leans down, right into Alex’s face, their tits pressing together, and Alex can see how wide her pupils are blown. “I’m gonna fuck you like the slut you are, just as soon as you ask me to. Nicely.”

This is ridiculous. It’s obnoxious. It’s so hot Alex clenches her teeth and does a kegel like that’s going to give her some relief. 

“Open your mouth.”

Alex obeys without thought, and Bradley pushes her fingers inside. Alex sucks them, hard. She likes the sharp tang, but she likes the deep, unsteady breath Bradley takes even more. 

“Can I taste _you_?” she asks. Then quickly: “Please.”

Bradley’s smile is feral. 

Every time they do this, there comes a moment where Alex’s stubbornness loses out to her need. She doesn’t notice it until the moment’s passed and she’s doing exactly what Bradley wants her to without even considering the alternative. It doesn’t matter by then, anyway. She wants Bradley to sit on her face more than she wants her pride.

“Since you asked so nicely,” Bradley says, and climbs toward the head of the bed. 

She leaves her underwear on. Alex pushes her tongue against the scrap of satin. Everything is dulled, but even so, Alex can’t stop her traitorous vocal chords from humming out a moan. She’s rougher than usual, with the barrier, uses her teeth as she looks up at Bradley, whose head is tilted toward the ceiling as she pinches her own nipples, hips rolling down into Alex’s mouth. Alex’s entire body is pulsing up, all of her muscles tensing then relaxing, tensing then relaxing. 

Bradley’s underwear is soaked through, thin and slippery but still in the way of what Alex wants, so she catches an edge with her teeth and pulls it to the side. _Finally_ her tongue is directly on Bradley’s cunt, chasing that taste to where Bradley is wettest and dipping inside. 

“Oookay,” Bradley says and she’s lifting herself off and the cuffs pinch the skin of Alex’s wrists as she tries to reach to hold the other woman in place. “That’s enough of that.” 

She settles herself between Alex’s legs once more, too far away to touch. Alex squirms. 

“How—” Bradley clears her throat. Her voice is steadier the second time around. “How you doing? Gimme a color.” 

“Green,” Alex says. 

Yes, it’s important to have safe words and check-ins. Yes, her limbs are restrained in a way that could be painful if it went on for too long. Yes, she is glad Bradley wants to be sure she’s okay. 

But none of that fucking matters compared to how much she wants Bradley’s fingers inside of her. 

“Fuck me. _Please_.” 

“That’s a good girl,” Bradley says, and proves she means it by sliding a finger into Alex, who grinds down on it immediately. 

“Yes,” Alex says. And, “More. Please more.”

She is still squirming, trying to fuck herself on Bradley’s finger as though that would be enough.

“Look at you. You’re desperate for it.”

Alex doesn’t know why she sounds surprised. She slips another finger inside and she’s right, Alex is completely desperate, nodding and letting her hips jump. Bradley curls her fingers and Alex’s eyes clench closed as she groans. 

“Christ, you’re easy,” Bradley murmurs. 

Alex gasps her way through her rebuttal. “You—fucking— _teased me_ —long enough—to get—anybody—worked up.”

“Not like this,” Bradley claims, adding a little twist as she pumps her fingers. Alex sees stars. “You’re so fucking wet, Levy. Soaked. Fuck, listen to it.” 

She’s right—the sound every time Bradley’s fingers push into her is _obscene_. Alex doesn’t care. 

“You really are a good little slut for me, aren’t you?” 

Alex’s body twitches at the _for me_. “Just for you,” she says.

Maybe if she had enough brainpower to analyze it she’d feel weird about how the idea of _being_ someone’s makes her clench, but in the moment, she just wants to be good for Bradley. 

“I don’t know,” Bradley says. She sounds calm and nonchalant, like she’s not two fingers deep in her cohost. “I think you’re just a dirty whore. I think you’d do this for anyone who figured out how desperate you are to be fucked.”

Alex can’t even care if it’s true or not. She’s too focused on that cruel edge in Bradley’s voice and in the punishing strength behind her thrusts. Alex feels like jello, soft and easy and bouncing along with Bradley’s pace.

“You’d be this fucking filthy for anyone, but you can’t,” Bradley says, “because you’re _mine._ ”

“Yes,” Alex says immediately. Then, “yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. Yours. Yours.”

She’s gasping and frantic. It seems laughable that there was ever a time she pushed back against Bradley instead of begging for more. 

“That’s right,” Bradley’s voice has gone smooth like her favorite whiskey in the liquor cabinet. Alex loves it; it means she’s been a good girl. Bradley could tell her to jump off a bridge in that voice and Alex would ask which one. “Now, I’m gonna give my slut what she wants, and she’s gonna come for me, okay?” 

Alex nods, doesn’t stop nodding as Bradley adds a finger and somehow fucks her even harder, hard enough Alex will be sore tomorrow, but she doesn’t care, she doesn’t care, she feels so good she thinks she might die. Her eyes are still closed. A litany of _fuck_ and _yes_ and _please_ and _Bradley. Bradley Bradley Bradley_ comes out of her mouth.

“There you go, Levy,” Bradley says. “Now be a good girl and come for me.” 

She flicks her thumb over Alex’s clit as she says it, and Alex is flying. She’s out of the bed, out of her mind, everything is white hot pleasure and Bradley’s voice, which Alex can barely hear over her own moans, telling her how good she is. 

Alex doesn’t know how long it is before she feels like she can breathe again. _Fuck_ , she feels good. But she’s not satisfied, not yet—Bradley doesn’t get to tease her for this long just for one orgasm. Alex rolls her hips experimentally, gasping at the flutter of pleasure and the way Bradley grins up at her from between her legs. 

“Such a good girl,” Bradley murmurs. 

“Always,” Alex says, having regained a little sass now that she’s taken the edge off. 

Bradley laughs, and Alex shivers at the way it moves Bradley’s fingers still inside her. Bradley adjusts like she might pull out and Alex tries to squeeze her thighs closed before being reminded of the cuffs on her ankles. She clenches her cunt instead, unwilling to let go. 

“Don’t stop—not yet.”

But Bradley does, swiftly and harshly. Alex feels excruciatingly empty, and then just as suddenly, pain blossoms on her thigh from where Bradley slapped it. Bradley has absolutely spanked her harder than that before, but the skin still stings. So much for being a good girl.

“I was adjusting, not stopping,” Bradley says. “But you’re not the one calling the shots here, Levy.” 

Alex bites her lip and nods. She knows better than to call Bradley _ma’am_ by this point. The pain where Bradley slapped her leg has already melted into more heat and pleasure. It no longer feels like she’s taken the edge off so much as gotten a taste. She breathes through her nose. She can be good. She can do anything Bradley wants, because Bradley is going to give her more. 

Alex can give up control. Alex can not have to fucking _worry_ about how things are going to go. Alex can let someone else be in charge. As long as that person is Bradley. Alex doesn’t get to pick. She’s not deciding what happens, but she knows what will eventually happen, anyway. It’s not a question of if, it’s a question of when.

Because as much as Alex likes Bradley being in charge, Bradley likes making Alex feel good. 

Bradley rubs her hand over the spot on Alex’s thigh that she slapped. “You think I should keeping fucking you?” 

_Yes_. But Alex swallows the word. 

“If you think you should,” she says. 

Bradley hums like she approves. But as her hand stills on Alex’s skin, what she says is, “I’m not so sure you deserve it.” 

Alex whimpers. Each and every one of her muscles is tensed. Bradley looks calm, like she’s just resting on the mattress between Alex’s legs, like she’s not affected. For all the ways she tends to lose control—of that damn mouth, usually—here she is focused, commanding. She looks away from Alex’s cunt, makes eye contact instead, and Alex doesn’t blink. 

Bradley quirks an eyebrow at her. “But I’m gonna keep fucking you anyway.” 

She slides inside—two, three, seven fingers, Alex couldn’t tell you, too busy with how fucking amazing it feels. Her eyes are closed now, head thrown back, moan loud enough to be indecent. Bradley doesn’t ease her into anything. It’s hard and fast and Bradley’s fingers feel impossibly thick, impossibly good. 

Nothing exists but this. Alex herself feels like she barely exists except for where she can feel the restraints, tight on her wrists and ankles, and where Bradley is touching her, one hand on her thigh and one hand inside her—Alex swears it could be an entire hand, Bradley could be _fisting_ her right now with how full Alex feels. Alex can’t think about it, can’t process anything but the stretch and the strength behind every thrust and the pleasure, branching out from her core. 

Bradley’s voice cuts through it all. “You gonna come like this?” 

Alex could, she knows, but she knows the right answer. “If you want me to.” 

“What do you want?” Bradley asks in that whiskey smooth tone.

Alex knows the answer to that, too. “Your mouth.”

“My mouth, what?”

She doesn’t hesitate. “Please, Bradley, Jesus.” Alex groans. “Please, please, please, put your mouth on my pussy. Use your—” 

She breaks off when Bradley licks a stripe up her center. 

“ _Fuck_.” 

Bradley does it again, swirling her tongue around Alex’s clit at the end. 

“You taste so good, baby.” 

Bradley only calls her baby like this, when they’re both too far gone to do anything but keep going. Just as Alex doesn’t know how many fingers are inside her, she doesn’t know how many tongues Bradley has. It has to be more than one, the way Alex feels it _everywhere_. That combined with the fact that she’s barely let up in the speed of her thrusts has Alex close to passing out. 

“Bradley, I—” 

She has to ask. She doesn’t want to know how Bradley will punish her if she doesn’t ask—well, she _does_ want to know, a little, but tonight she wants to be good more than she wants to be a brat, so she has to ask. If she could just focus long enough to form the question. 

“ _Please_ ,” she begs instead. 

With effort, Alex opens her eyes and looks down at Bradley, whose entire body is moving with how hard her fingers are slamming into Alex. Bradley sucks on Alex’s clit when their eyes meet. Alex’s hips are jumping as much as they can, meeting Bradley thrust for thrust, jolting against her face. She can tell from Bradley’s eyes the other woman is grinning into her cunt. God, Alex better ask soon or she’s not going to be able to stop herself.

“Please, can I come?” The words are rushed and breathless, Alex’s eyes still locked on Bradley’s. “Please. For you.” 

Bradley nods and _mmhmms_ against Alex’s clit and Alex would be fucking _screaming_ if she could make noise at all, but she has no air, no breath, no words, just sheer, shimmering pleasure, indulgent bliss, rapture, ecstasy, she needs a fucking thesaurus to explain how good this feels. 

“That’s my good girl.”

Alex didn’t even know Bradley had taken her mouth off of her enough to say something. She slams her head against the pillow behind it. She’s still fucking coming. 

Bradley is quietly shushing her by the time Alex finally stops shaking. She isn’t sure what noises she made. 

“There you go, babe,” Bradley murmurs. “There you go.” 

Alex takes a shuddering breath. 

“You’re so good,” Bradley says. “I love you. You did so good. I love you so much.” 

The first time she’d said _I love you_ was like this. Alex, still recovering from her third orgasm of the night, had practically had a panic attack. Bradley had leapt out of bed and paced beside it, ranting about how she could’ve said it better, but she didn’t want to call Alex names in bed and then not be honest about how amazing she was outside of it. Alex had only admitted she felt the same way because Bradley ranting was really cute, when it wasn’t annoying as hell. 

“Okay,” Bradley says, bringing her back to the present. “Ready?” 

Alex swallows. Nods. Her whole body twitches when Bradley pulls out. She has yet to open her eyes. 

“Good girl.” 

Bradley is unstrapping Alex’s restraints as she says it. The legs first—she does one and then rubs at the skin of Alex’s ankle, her hand soft and warm and heartbreakingly gentle. Even after Bradley has rubbed both ankles, both wrists, and laid Alex’s limbs closer to her body, Alex feels flayed open.

“I’m going to get you some water, okay?” Bradley’s voice is tender. She brushes hair from Alex’s forehead and presses a kiss there. “I love you.” 

Bradley has absolutely _leaned in_ on the whole “saying _I love you_ is part of aftercare” thing, but Alex can never bring herself to mind. She vaguely registers the noises of Bradley in the bathroom. She’s going to sit up soon, she tells herself. Bradley didn’t fuck the life out of her. She’s fine.

She doesn’t actually sit up until Bradley returns and makes her. 

“C’mon, you gotta drink this.” 

With more of Bradley’s help than she’ll admit, Alex gets situated leaning against the headboard. She takes the glass of water from Bradley, takes a couple of gulps. 

“You okay?” Bradley asks. 

Alex rolls her eyes. “Yes, I’m _okay_. You didn’t kill me. Good lord.” 

“I don’t know.” Bradley’s look of fake concern should not be so endearing. “You looked a little dead there for a while.” 

“I hate you,” Alex says. 

Bradley takes the water cup and drops a kiss on Alex’s mouth. “I love you, too.” 


End file.
